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"Look at ye!" Storm bellows as his eyes behold an old friend. "Suren ye've become as shiny as ye friends in the big room in the castle!!" Storm grins a wide toothy grin as he approaches his past companion. He grasps Guilliam on both arms in a firm clasp and looks up into his face "Aye Bard, it is good to see ye."

Guilliam excuses himself from his practices, and the two friends exit and walk the grounds of the castle proper as they chat. Storm tells Guilliam of Rinder's Six's exploits since he left the group, of the new members Hannibal and Emma and Naeron, and of the new major players in the plot of the kingdom: The Blood Clan, The Red Dragon School, the apparent involvement of drow elves. Storm rambles on for quite some time in his usual, rambunctious, choppy manner of storytelling. He feels, though, completely unembarrassed, though. He scoffs at nobility and the likes, yet now, in talking to an old dear friend of his, he feels completely at home with his piecemeal form of story telling.

He comes to the battle of fort Dillend as they near a more quite place in their wanderings. "Guilliam, me gots some sad stuff to tell ye," he starts, halting his pacing and turning to face the Bard. "Edryd, he not be makin' it from Dillend. A bastard of an archer shot 'im in the back." Storm pauses a second, recalling the painful moment again in his own mind. "He's able to say 'bye to us, though," he continues, "an' he saved a special part fer ye. He gave me this--" he hastily removes the pendant of Anhur from his neck--"an' bade me seek ye out and give it ye so ye known ye's were on his mind when he went." He places the pendant gruffly in Guilliam's hand.

Storm chuckles. "I guess that god o' his be lookin' after ye now."

A tear forms at the corner of the bard's eye as he reaches out slowly to take the pendant from Storm's dirty hand. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but no words come out. Fortunately, Storm is too oblivious to notice, and continues speaking.

"Oh ya," he continues. "He also bade me to tell ye to write him a song, one o' yer best, about how he's a good friend an' he loved and cared fer his mates, an' how he needed them." Storm pauses to make sure he didn't forget anything. He looks up to Guilliam, the shocked look on his face speaking volumes. The short pause grows into a long moment of contemplative silence, as the two friends of a great Paladin reflect on the wonder that was their friend's life.

Several moments later, Storm grows antsy and breaks the silence. "Speakin' o' yer songs, ye better have me a good one! One of fightin' and goblin' smashin' and more fightin' an...." Storm goes on as they once again begin to wander the grounds. They chat for hours, recounting past experiences, Guilliam explaining the intricacies of the new music he plays to the surley dwarf (who, of course, has no idea what the bard is talking about, but listens intently just the same), and Storm recounting the drama of his trip home and his somewhat over-immortalized exploits on the dwarven patrol. As the sun sets and the evening approaches, Storm stops Guilliam and bellows, "Ye've got to come with me! I's be meetin' the rest o' the Six by Anhur's temple! Ye've got to come and see them, an' meet the new ones! Bah, don't ye worry about any trouble, ye've got Rinder's Six with ye! C'mon ye lanky human, lets be off!!" He taunts as he begins a jog toward the castle gates.

It was truly good to see his old friend again.

Storm only jogs for a few moments before he realizes that Guilliam does not follow. Stopping, he turns around to face the bard, who is looking down at the pendant in his hands, his slouched posture revealing his mood. Of course, Storm had had time to deal with Edryd's death. But to Guilliam, the news was fresh and it hurt.

Guilliam looks up to Storm, who is slowing walking back toward him. His eyes are filled with tears, and as one streams down his left cheek all he can say is, "Why?" He can just barely whisper the word, his agony so severe.

Storm isn't exactly sure what to do. He was never the emotional type and wasn't any good at comforting others. He smiles weakly, accutely aware of the awkwardness of the situation. Then he raises his hand, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Thar, thar," he says in a low, gruff voice. "Seein' the others'll do ya good."

Guilliam inhales quickly, a loud sniffle. Then he wipes his cheeks with the back of his sleeve. "Storm, I can't," he says, his voice trembling. "I can't leave the castle grounds. It's just not safe out there for me. You may be a great strong warrior, but I can hardly defend myself. My greatest moments in battle with you were when you, and Cy, and...and Edryd were standing beside me."

He leans forward toward the dwarf, his voice now stronger, calmer: "I haven't left the grounds since I arrived here. It's been a lonely life but I have my music and the other players in the ensemble are all very good. How I long to see the others...but I just can't." Then he comes to a decision. "You go. Go and save us from the blockade, slay this evil diplomat. Perhaps once he is gone I will be able to once more set foot on this fine city's streets without fear of Blood Clan retribution. It has lifted my spirits to see you once more, Storm, and I will indeed write a song in your honor, and in memory of the greatest warrior I have ever known."

Storm swallows, disappointed but understanding. "Aye," he says quietly. "I understand. Then I'll be seein' ya soon, eh?"

Guilliam forces a smile, placing Edryd's pendant around his neck. "Aye," he says, patting Storm on the shoulder. "You most certainly will."

Crayne smiles as he sees Rinders Six once again united. The evening is pleasant and he is still very pleased with his meal and bed last night. It was a long time since he had enjoyed the pleasantries of Rinder. A fine wine and some good company cheered him up no end. His uncle Karelth was in fine spirits and it was good again to share some of his stories with his closest friends. He had brought up during the night the subject of the ring. At the moment, whilst Karelth was with Rinders Six, Crayne had agreed that Karelth hang on to it. Nevertheless, it was imperative that the ring remain within sight of the Six for its value could be priceless in the upcoming war. Karelth seemed to acknowledge that and there the subject was dropped.

Crayne had informed Karelth about what Towers had said regarding the Ring of Fire. He had then left it with him to ponder over whether he would come with Rinder's Six in search of the second ring of the four. Crayne was sure that his Uncle would not let him down for he hadn't in the past. Karelth was a figure that Crayne trusted. A human value that Crayne wasn't a believer in.

What also crossed Crayne's mind was the lack of knowledge about the Ring of Water. How would it be used and what could it do? As a mage, Crayne knew that it would be his responsibility within the group to seek knowledge of these four rings. Some research was indeed required, but where to start was what troubled him at current. The city's mage was certainly out of the question. Though the book that Canter was given by Towers may shed some light, although Crayne was sure that it only provided an indication as to where the Ring of Fire lay. Time would tell, Crayne thought.

Returning back to the present Crayne nods at everyone as they are ushered into a secluded room within the Temple. "Ok then!" Crayne says, resting his long fingers on the table top, "Let us put our cards on table and see where it may lead us!"

"Cy and I will start, I guess," Emma offers, "Especially since the immediate threat of another attack like the one on the steps could hang over our heads.

"We took the Drow insignia to Charterant Cordal of the Caste of Nire, god of the Sky, the Stars, and most importantly, Divination," she begins, "After much prayer, he told us that the symbol is the emblem of their House, just as you suggested, Crayne." She smiles at the Highbrow approvingly. "He gave us a little bit of history about the Drow," she continues, "Explaining that their society is fractured into many such Houses, all competing against one another for domination of the underworld. Indeed, they all apparently live underground in large caverns and tunnels, just like the Dwarves. This particular symbol belongs to House D'Urdenterrad of the city known as Lentadirrec, which lies somewhere beneath the soutwestern Raimead Mountains. House D'Urdenterrad is one of the smaller factions in that city and Cordal explained that the ones who fought against us were mid-level soldiers, probably sent here for a very specific and important purpose. He doubts that they are the masterminds behind our current situation, however. Apparently, Drow will rarely venture above ground unless something valuable is at stake. And, if the current situation held something truly motivating for Drow society as a whole, the larger Houses would have become involved long before D'Urdenterrad."

Emma pauses as she recollects Cordal's exact words, then says, "If the motive for those warriors was inspired by forces other than the Drow themselves, then a smaller house's involvement might indicate that the larger ones simply passed on the opportunity because they didn't find it worthwhile...either because it was too difficult and/or risky, or because the offered payment wasn't significant enough to tempt them. In House D'Urdenterrad's case, apparently the price was just right, or they're desperate enough to ally themselves with a risky scheme in the hopes that the payoff will be considerably larger in terms of the stature they'll gain among the other Houses if they prove successful."

Canter then leans forward on the table, looking to the others. He relays the events of his day, telling his friends all about his visit to the Teamsters Guild and his discussion with the halfing clerk there. "So you see, if the adamantine ore is being shipped by wagon, it will cost quite a lot. So someone must either be getting an excellent price for the ore, or have the financial resources to undertake such a venture. And the fact that the guild wouldn't be able to do the job until next week tells us that the wagons have been rented--and that whatever they will be used for will be over by next week!"

Naeron then speaks, recalling his conversation with Emissary Evanston Defonte of the Great House of Adela. He explains about the tavern at which Bernigan has been known to meet with "less noble" men, and also tells the group about how he had to reveal some information of his own in order to get what he needed.

"Politicians," Cy spits, "smooth talkers. Typical."

"Still," Naeron replies, reassuring his friend, "We did get what we needed: a lead on Bernigan. We did choose to focus our efforts on him."

Taking his cue, Hannibal tells his story of the day, about how he met two street-thieves with ties to the Blood Clan. "Their Attender was out of town. Where? I wonder. Regardless, we have an appointed meeting time. Tomorrow night, midnight."

Finally, Storm tells about his meeting with Guilliam the Gale. It is a jumbled but understandable monologue. All listen attentively to the dwarf as he relays the sadness in Guilliam's eyes, and the news about how Guilliam is afraid to leave the castle grounds.

"Did you learn anything from Guilliam about the Blood Clan?" Canter asks.

Storm's eyes grow wide, and then he hits his forehead with his palm. "Curses!" he shouts, "I be forgettin'!"

Crayne sits there silently pondering over the findings of all the group as they reveal to him the events of the day. His mind works overdrive as he begins to ponder over the new information placed in front of him. It is then that the mage accepts that it his turn. He looks to Karelth for a moment and then takes a deep breath, "Well! What the two of us found is of a good interest I would think. Though slim and a little lacking I do believe it is a thread and a start. We took it upon ourselves after--I must share with you--a splendid meal at our inn. The wine was a great old vintage. Wonderfully kept!" Crayne says as he swirls his tongue around his mouth trying to bring back the taste.

Emma rolls her eyes as the mage begins to digress. "Crayne?" she gently reminds him, "What did you find out?"

"Anyhow! I grow accustomed to steering off the track these days. Let me continue. We made for Paros's where me and Hannibal addressed him last. What we came across, or rather bumped into, was indeed the mage's apprentice. Quite a nervous sort of person. Suprising really for one who intends to study such a serious venture. One must have their wits about them if they are to grow and develop strongly in the path of magic."

Emma leans forward and tilts her chin as if to say, '...And? What did you find out?!' She looks helplessly toward Crayne's uncle.

"Anyhow, what intrigued us both straight away!" Karelth nods, taking his cue from the priestess, "was that the man was carrying two large sacks. He looked a little ridiculous, actually, remembering him struggling with the sacks and stepping on the trail of his long blue robes."

Crayne smiles as he remembers, "It was at that point that he made his inevitable blunder. Dropping one of the sacks he revealed to us the contents of the sacks. Coinage! Money!"

"Money?" Emma says aloud, "Some form of payment, perhaps? Hmmmm..." The priestess strokes her chin in thoughtfulness as Crayne continues.

"Having persuaded him to lead us on down to a basement library he revealed to us his name and that he was an apprentice of Paros. His name was Emerson. It was that time that I decided to question and use a little magical persuasion just to get that little bit more out of him. What I learnt was that the Emerson was given the sacks at a pub the night last and he was given them to by a man named Jordice. It was then that the treacherous Paros returned and me and my Uncle took our escape!"

"Took your escape!" Emma interjects with surprise, "Do you mean Paros walked in and found the both of you there?!" Images of the Red Dragon renegade seeking them out with powerful spells began to float through Emma's mind, each one more horrible than the last.

"Indeed no!" Crayne states with a loud laugh, "We slipped away without discovery!"

Following Crayne's reassurance that he and his uncle had escaped without being detected, the priestess breathes a sigh of relief. "Well that was close," she states, "But it seems the risk you took was well worth it. Excellent job, Highbrow! And you too, Karelth. I see that a cunning mind runs in your family..."

As the group concludes their findings Crayne then takes the opportunity to relay his thoughts, "Well. We have grouped together a lot of information. A lot of clues that must now be pieced together in order for us to move on. Let us begin by pondering over these drows and what their involvement could mean in all of this. Emma, you mentioned that the priests told you that this emblem was of one of the houses--a smaller house. Also, you stated that the priest thought that it could be that a smaller house was paid by a third party to act. For that is what I would believe to be most likely. What with the cost of buying all this ore, transporting the ore and then paying off a large drow house, I fear the cost would outweigh the benefits.

"No, I believe Paros has paid these drow to cause us trouble. What I can't quite ponder over though is why get the drow involved and how did he contact the house in the first place? Why attack Rinder's Six in broad daylight in the middle of a city outside a Temple of Anhur? Why didn't they attack us on our route back to Parton? Dark Elves are more cunning than that I am sure! They were intended as a warning of some sort! Some sort of sign! Perhaps it was Bernigan's idea to bring these drow into it. Perhaps Paros after we met with him asked Bernigan to get shot of us. Perhaps it was Bernigan who hired the drow for he would have contacts and would perhaps be in the position to hire some drow."

It is then that Crayne thinks again and smiles, "What if?...The drow were to get a share of the adamantine if the deal was to go through?! Isn't that a more likely summation? We saw that they were wearing adamantine! Thus in exchange for some of the adamantine the dark elves would see that Rinder's Six be dealt with. Perhaps Bernigan had spoken with some of these drow whilst he was at the Raimead mountains. What do you all think?"

"I think it more likely that Bernigan is involved with the Drow, than Paros," Emma comments.

"Indeed, I agree!" Crayne says pleased. Crayne eagerly rubs his hands together waiting to hear more of Emma's thoughts.

Emma continues, "Your meeting with the Red Dragon renegade might have angered him...and he certainly issued a warning to you and Hannibal...but I doubt he would have sent the Drow our way so soon. But, Bernigan on the other hand, he knows what we're capable of...and he knows our intentions to renegotiate the Dwarven treaty. That's a definite threat to his business interests. Plus, he knows that Hannibal is among us and his feelings are all too clear regarding his old friend. By removing Rinder's Six, Bernigan kills two birds with one stone. Both problems eliminated.

"Also, based upon the Charterant's words, I suspect that House D'Urdenterrad is investing in Bernigan's scheme to increase their stature among the other Drow. They might be the actual buyer of the adamantine...or they may simply be assisting him in smuggling the material out of Raimead for a high price by taking it underground instead of across the mountains. But I'm unsure of that last idea. Canter's encounter at the Teamsters' Guild sounds like Bernigan has already commissioned the use of several wagons for a trip into the mountains. But perhaps, he's only doing that so he can give the appearance to the Dwarves that he's taking it honorably? Then, after traveling a short distance to another part of the mountains and a cave entrance controlled by the Drow or those Goblins that Storm encountered, he could transfer the adamantine to them for transport underground. Indeed, the Drow and the Goblins could be cooperating, and they might be the allies of Bernigan that slayed the Knight of Rinder journeying into the mountains."

"A possibility certainly!" Crayne says pondering over it, "I think what we aimfor most is finding out why and how these drow are involved in all of this! It seems clear so far that Bernigan is the person who has hired them. What then is in it for the Drow? And why, the question must be posed, has Bernigan specifically gone out of his way to ask the drow? For they are obviously not the easiest of peoples to contact. What had influenced Bernigan into bringing them into all of this? I'm guessing that these Dark Elves have their own access to the adamantine as they are deeply hidden below the Raimead mountains. They were wearing the stuff afterall. It seems unlikely that the Drow are concerned about the adamantine! If they were then the larger houses would have surely involved themselves. Why then would it interest the drow for the negotiations to go through and for them to see Rinders Six's death? Somehow Bernigan has twisted their arms and he has some information that has enabled him to get this House to listen to him!"

Emma raises an eyebrow and asks, "Are you certain the Drow were wearing adamantine armor? I never checked them before...only Canter did. Canter? Did you find any evidence of adamantine on them?"

Crayne nods, "Well, I assumed it was. It was certainly difficult to penetrate and it certainly looked like the stuff!"

Canter responds, "I'm not sure if it was, adamantine, actually." Crayne and Emma lean back in their chairs simultaneously as Canter admits this. "Yes, it was difficult to penetrate, but that may be because they were extremely skilled fighters and quite agile."

"If they weren't wearing the precious metal, that changes the whole picture," Cy says, running a hand through his hair.

"And Crayne," Canter continues after nodding to Cy, "I'm not sure we can assume the Drow have their own access to adamantine armor. Remember, it is considered extremely rare, perhaps the rarest and most precious of metals. And the discovery of adamantine in the eastern Raimead Moutains--in that mine where we fought the Umber Hulk--is relatively recent."

"Then we should definitely consider the idea that the Drow might have a vested interest in getting their hands on the adamantine, themselves," Naeron says, looking pointedly around the table.

Crayne then moves on, "What now do you conclude about this pub that Naeron talks about, The Dragon's Tooth? That is where he said that Bernigan has been seen. Perhaps this is the same venue that the nervous looking Emerson had gone to pick up those sacks of money from Jordice? Perhaps Jordice is Bernigan, I don't know!

"What was this money for? It seems most likely to me that it was money from Caerloon. What then was Paros going to do with this money? Paros had obviously already given some money to the Teamsters Guild. I'd imagine he'd probably have paid in full for such a huge task, certainly a large deposit anyhow. Why had Bernigan rushed back so quickly too? It is obviously something to do with Bernigan! What though? What was Paros up to?

"It is clear to me that Paros will be doing something with this money soon and that I believe is where we must act next. Let us see what he does with this money. To hide such huge sacks of money is no easy task. I suggest we head as soon as possible and keep an eye on the comings and goings of Paros. Also, maybe we could split up and send half of our group to the Dragon's Tooth. Perhaps Bernigan will leave from there to meet with Paros or perhaps even that could be the meeting venue."

"Again, I doubt that Paros is the one spending the money in this scheme," Emma counsels, "Bernigan is the capitalist. Paros is the dictator, and he holds the reins to allowing Bernigan's operations to go unnoticed by the law of the land. I believe it's Bernigan that has paid the Teamsters' Guild. And he's probably paying bribery-money to Paros to keep it quiet. And Paros is more than willing to do so, since it also serves the purposes of his Caerloon and Red Dragon allies to allow Rinder's adamantine to slip away once more. The money probably means very little to Paros, except to line his pockets...and possibly pass it along to fund part of the war efforts for Caerloon. I suspect Bernigan doesn't even know what's happening to it. Or if he does know, he doesn't care...

"As for why Bernigan raced back here to Parton after his meeting with the Dwarves, it could be because his next bribery payment was due," she suggests, "Paros seems like an intelligent man...a clever schemer. If he wanted to drag this out as long as possible, he could force Bernigan to pay him for every shipment that he 'allowed' to leave the mountains. Bernigan probably had other reasons, too. He still has to arrange for the Guild's wagons to pick up the ore from the Dwarves. Canter's conversation reveals that the Teamsters are committed to another job...but they still haven't completed it. Bernigan is probably here to make sure things get taken care of. His deal with the Dwarves has been agreed to, but now he needs to close it out."

"Urhmmm!" Crayne suddenly looks intrigued, "What if it was Paros who was head of this operation? Then he is the one pulling the purse strings. Couldn't he be the one destroying the negotiations with the dwarves and Rinder? Afterall, to Caerloon this would be of great benefit, with the treaty between the dwarves and Rinder broken the dwarves would not fight alongside Rinder's soldiers and also Rinder wouldn't have the benefit of the adamantine armor. What if it is Caerloon who have been behind this all along and it is Paros who is orchestrating it all?! By refusing to up the price in the negotiations with the dwarves he has taken his opportunity by stepping in as a purchaser with Caerloon funding and then he has used Bernigan as his chief negotiator. Bernigan is merely employed by Paros to do his dirty work! Couldn't this ore that is being purchased by this mystery buyer be going to Caerloon to arm their soldiers rather than going to Marlond?

"At the same time Paros causes friction between Parton and Marlond by bringing Bernigan into all of this. Afterall, this Bernigan dosen't seem to me to be a person who values loyalty thats for certain. Perhaps this money was being used by Paros to pay Bernigan off. It is a possibility and one worth considering in all of this I feel!"

"Certainly a possibility," Emma agrees, "Half the trouble with unraveling conspiracies is that there's a million different tangles that can exist. We can wind up becoming so paranoid that anything seems possible after awhile. Luckily, the gods have helped us in finding the truth. As I said before, during the Commune in which I participated with High Priest Towers, I did ask if Caerloon was directly involved in the problems between the Dwarves and Raimead. The answer that I received was a definite, 'No'. So, I think this particular possibility isn't as likely, Crayne."

Crayne nods, "Ok, I don't think I was aware of that! That puts that theory out for now!"

"Paros is definitely not in contact with Baron General Wade III," Emma continues, "The Commune revealed that as well. That's why I think it's more likely that Bernigan is the one that's paying off Paros, and the wizard is only too happy to do it, because he knows it will foster chaos here in Rinder and that it will aid his renegade friends. Besides, your friend Emerson told you that he went to a tavern to receive the money in those sacks. And, Naeron tells us that Bernigan has been known to frequent a tavern in order to meet with less-than-honorable men. We also know the Blood Clan is involved in this mess, and Bernigan is a member of their's. Therefore, I think it's highly likely that Bernigan or his Blood Clan allies has been meeting with Emerson in order to funnel money to Paros...essentially a bribe for his silence and cooperation."

"That would seem to make sense to me," Cy agrees.

"And," Naeron says, "the Blood Clan is a large enough organization, based on what I have learned from this group, that it might just have the financial might to pull off such a stunt. They could be selling the adamantine to the drow, and the profits could cover the cost of the wagons and bribing Paros to keep it away from Duke Bryant."

"Then, by attacking us, the Drow would be protecting their investment," Canter says, a smile on his face, "And surely Bernigan wouldn't mind."

"So where do we go from here?" Emma asks, "I'm inclined to keep our group together for the time being. Remember, it's not Paros we're after right now. Bernigan is the focus. Much like a general facing an opposing army, we should focus our attacks on removing a cavalry unit, here...or a certain group of archers, there...to weaken his force before fully deploying our troops along the main battleline. We can take away Paros's advantage bit-by-bit, always keeping him off-balance, wondering when we're going to face him head-on. Such a strategy can breed fear in your opponent, and fear can lead to mistakes. Right now, I think we need Paros to make a few of those for us, so we can prove his guilt.

"It also sounds to me like Bernigan hasn't completed the deal with the Teamsters' Guild yet," she suggests, "So there's probably another meeting taking place at the Dragon's Tooth. It might not be Bernigan himself...maybe one of his Blood Clan cronies...but someone's got to pay-off the teamsters and explain the route that the wagons are to take. Why don't we drop in on Hannibal's Blood Clan friends, first? They can probably explain who this Jordice is...and how to recognize him. Then, we can go to the tavern and meet with him ourselves. Once he's in our possession, we can interrogate him for information on what's really going on...and where the adamantine is going to be delivered.

"We still need to gather some proof that will convince the Dwarves and Duke Bryant of what's happening. If we can somehow show General Korg that the Drow are participating in Bergnigan's venture that ought to be enough for them. And if we know the delivery point, we can take the General and a Dwarven patrol with us to confront them. Maybe then, the Dwarves will renegotiate the treaty in good faith. If we explain to Duke Bryant that the Drow and the Blood Clan were working together to rob Raimead of its adamantine ore, he too should take a direct hand in the negotiations with the Dwarves, and cut Paros out of the picture for awhile to make sure things are set right."

Emma looks around the room and says, "While we're at it, we should probably start looking for evidence of Paros' bribery by Bernigan and the Blood Clan. We're not strong enough to take that kind of proof directly to Duke Bryant yet, but we should still gather it while we can. And, then, after we've retrieved the Ring of Fire, we'll come back, face down Paros on equal footing, and expose the full truth to everyone."

"Urhmmm!" Crayne says, "I myself think it is imperative that we keep an eye on Paros and his apprentice Emerson. Remember that Emerson is now a very close pal of mine!"

"That's good, Crayne," Emma cautions, "But remember, we all agreed that we were definitely NOT going to keep an eye on Paros right now. Bernigan is our target, not the wizard. We're not ready to face him yet, and we need the Ring of Fire before we do. It's okay to keep an eye on Emerson...but only when he's away from his master. I fear that if we attract Paros' direct attention during this investigation, he will see our interference and put a stop to it. Remember his warning to you and Hannibal? I'd take that seriously if I were you guys, and I'm taking it seriously as myself anyway, because a threat to either of you is a threat against Rinder's Six, as far as I'm concerned."

Crayne nods and acknowledges her point. He is just a little frustrated at the moment at this Paros. What had he called him? An upstart mage! Crayne is very eager to unveil Paros's treachery and show the King who this Paros really is. He was letting his anger for revenge take too much control. Nevertheless, Crayne is still convinced that more could be learned from this Emerson. He also has a couple of spells up his sleve that could assist him. Crayne is in particular favour of a spell he had found a while back now, one of Dire's spells he had found in the Raimead Mountains "for listening where one cannot normally listen." He plans to try and see if he could memorise it, for the last time he tried his power wasn't quite strong enough. Now however, He has more confidence with his skill in the arts of magic. He is sure he could now do it and he would try as soon as possible.

He looks at Emma, "Ok, I will tail this Emerson and see what I can find! Be rest assured, Emma, that I will not trouble Paros and that I will keep out of his way! I have a new spell which too could be put to good use, one where I can hear things at any place that is familiar to me and I don't have to be there! 'Clairaudience,' they call it!"

Naeron smiles as Crayne talks proudly about his new spell. Surely a power like that would come in handy, and it would mean that the mage would stay out of harm's way, at least for the moment!

"Now let's refocus here," Emma suggests, "I think Crayne, you can still keep an eye on Emerson's activities and let us know if he's going to meet with anyone at that tavern again. In fact, since he's such a close 'friend' now, perhaps you can ask him to come find you before he goes to meet anyone there again. That way, all of us can stay together. And, while we're together, let's go meet Hannibal's friends from the alleyway. Obviously, they're Blood Clan, and the sooner we start pumping them for information about Bernigan, the better. Maybe they know how the Drow were smuggled into Parton? That alone should put Duke Bryant firmly on our side when we present evidence of Bernigan's scheme to him."

"Urhhm!" Crayne says, "I fear Paros will not be pleased if Rinder's Six are seen with his apprentice mage! I will keep an eye on this Emerson, do not fear, and see what he can bring us! I'll meet up with you later in the afternoon tomorrow, in time to venture to meet these Blood Clan thieves."

Hannibal had listened to Crayne and Emma debate endlessly the circumstances of Paros, Bernigan, the Drow and much more. His head hurts with such talk but his mind quickly returns each time the mention of Bernigan came up. He grows tired of the talk, feeling that they are wasting time and that Bernigan will again get away from him. Finally, throwing away any hopes of being polite, Hannibal jumps into the conversation.

"Enough talk! It is Bernigan we seek and that is final. If you do not wish to accompany me then so be it, I go alone. If you want to gather information on his practices and who holds his strings then you will coe with. I can tell you this, Bernigan is not smart enough to act alone, he is a puppet and nothing more. In the clan it was Singe, now it must be someone with a great deal of money, possibly Paros but I do not care.

"You wonder about the Drow, try this on for size: They were hired to face us and picking said fight at the steps of your church, lady Emma, was no accident, it is to send a message, the sign that quite possibly the Blood Clan could still be at work here!"

Emma clearly is taken aback by Hannibal's strong outburst, though that expression is quickly replaced by one of understanding. The thief's relationship with Bernigan was full of hate right now, she realizes...almost to the point that he wasn't thinking rationally anymore. 'It will be hard to include him in our planning session, if he can't control his impatience,' she thinks to herself.

Hannibal backs off for a moment, a bit embarressed at his sudden display but vigilant nonetheless. "Can we shadow Bernigan you ask? Well the answer is yes. He is not an accomplished thief, nothing more than a thug really.

"Know this however, all of you." In saying this he looks to each member of the Six but his words are clearly intended for Emma. "I am going to kill him. Maybe not tonight but it will happen, and soon. Lady Emma, if your god insists that you turn me in after this so be it but do not dare to interfere untill my destiny is fullfilled." His last words are almost intended as a threat, a fact that obviously hurts Hannibal as he realizes the damage his words may have caused. As a peacemaker, he softens his voice a bit. "I trust you will at least let me honor her before you must act."

That said he sits back in his chair and hides his shaking hands in his robe.

Crayne nods at Hannibal and then looks to Emma. There was no way that Emma would let this happen, Crayne knew that. If Hannibal succeeded in killing Bernigan then Rinder's Six would be split, there was little doubt about that! The consequences would be severe. Crayne, himself, feels for Hannibal and at the moment being honest with himself he takes the stance that if Bernigan was taken care of then a lot of Rinder's current problems would certainly be destroyed.

Nevertheless, what worried Crayne most was that the Six would be prime suspects and with someone as clever as Paros as an enemy, the Six would indeed be in a whole lot of strife!

"Hannibal...," Emma begins, "I have no doubt that passion rules your very soul right now. For me to try and convince you that killing Bernigan will not bring you the peace you desire, would be folly on my part. You've decided to tune out my message. If I tried to tell you that Bernigan's quick-death on a cold dark street won't have the same impact as a trial and proper execution in front of the eyes and ears of Rinder's people, you will laugh and scoff at Anhur's notion of justice.

"What do you want to hear from me?" she asks, never raising her voice, but speaking calmly and quietly, "Do you want my blessing upon your murderous revenge? You know that Anhur's church, and I as their priestess, cannot condone such a thing. More murder isn't the answer, Hannibal. Because, without putting it in the proper context of a visible trial backed by the evidence to convince all those around you, that's exactly what the world will call it. Bernigan is Duke Marlond's diplomat! And you might call him nothing more than a thug, but obviously he has stature right now in the eyes of the people. There will be ramifications to his untimely death if it cannot be shown to be just. So you must concern yourself with how others will perceive your actions...and stop focusing on your selfish desire to have your revenge for the sake of your slain love.

"You ask me not to interfere?" she asks, "Why? So I can watch you go through the agony and self-loathing that will visit after the deed is done and you realize it hasn't given you any peace? So I can watch you turned over to the magistrates and hung for raising your hand against a minor political figure? So I can watch the population's trust in Rinder's Six fall apart? So I can allow your lost love to look upon this plane of existence, saddened that you had to give up your life just to avenge the loss of hers? I don't want to see any of those things happen, Hannibal. Not just for your sake, but for our's, the people's, and the spirit of Melinda.

"I will promise you this much, though," Emma states, "Should Bernigan attempt to thwart us by attacking us himself...or escape by fighting his way past us in order to evade the law...justice will be determined when we cross our blades with him at that precise moment. But, we had better make sure we have evidence against him that supports our actions which we can present once it's finished. That much I will give my blessing to...but don't ask me to favor any approach that calls for us to ambush him just so we can spill his blood in a vengeful act of violence. Because if you attempt to do something like that, Hannibal, I will come after you and I'll speak out against you myself. Is that understood?" Clearly the priestess offers her own threat when confronted with Hannibal's...but she does her best to back it with some sane reasons for doing so...all of which, she's afraid the former-thief will fail to recognize in his blind quest.

Hannibal does his best to listen to the priestess, to hear her words of reason, but he boils with anger. He remembers being a child, his mother scolding him for this or that, and all he could do was seethe with rage. It was that same anger and temper that found him now. He knows Emma only wishes him well but at the same time he wants nothing to do with her justice. Too many have died at the hands of that man and now she defended him?!! This form of justice was completely alien to him.

He stares Emma straight in the eye across the table. "I am tired of your words. All they do is delay the inevitable. I will accept your promise, but let us hope we collect that evidence before I lay eyes on that bastard again."

Despite all the hate and pain he feels, Hannibal somehow keeps quiet, even when Emma threatens to turn him in herself. He just had to keep reminding himself that she meant well. Hunching over, Hannibal pulls the neatly bundled package from his boot and rubbed over it's contours with his still trembling hands. By now Emma's words had turned back to conversation with Crayne and Hannibal could be left to himself. Through the canvas wrapping he held his destiny, and it felt good to him. After a while his hands stopped trembling and he smiled. Quietly he listened to the others plan, he said nothing...only smiled.

Retiring to their inn, the group decides to call it a night. Emotions and tensions are running high, and all are feeling the pressure mounting as their responsibilities grow and opinions diverge. Yet the need to stick together is something that each one feels.

Canter, Cy, Emma, Naeron, Karelth, and Storm make it their rooms and are asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows--it has been a long, tiring day in Parton.

Hannibal, however, is still steaming from his argument with Emma and decides to cool off in the bar next-door to the inn. Seating himself in a stool at the end of the bar he once again meets an old friend: alcohol. Telling himself it will cool him off and calm him down he orders one, then another, then another...

Crayne, in the meantime, decides that his work has just begun. Ordering a bottle of wine and a plate of cheese, he lights a candle in his room and opens his dirty, dusty backpack. Reaching inside he pulls out two objects which haven't seen the light of day in quite some time: Mazen's Mage's spellbook, and the two scrolls found in the Raimead Mine (both written by Dire Luthor). He also removes his own spellbook, along with a fine quill and a vial of ink.

Soon, he is ready to study. He is driven, perhaps encouraged by his newfound power and control of the arcane forces of magic. Perhaps driven to prove Paros wrong: that he was no upstart mage but a serious wizard, a scholar who devoted himself to his craft. Whatever the motive, Crayne is prepared to work.

And work he does. The night is long past midnight, and the candle has burned quite low when he finally finishes. But he is most pleased with his work: Of Mazen's Mage's spellbook, not a single spell remains which he has not transcribed into his own. Of Dire Luthor's scrolls, there are two: one contains only one spell, and after an attempt, Crayne realizes he is still not yet powerful enough to transcribe it. The other contains two. One is beyond his comprehension but the other is not, and it is the very spell which Crayne most sought: Clairaudience. It is his final task for the night, and with a satisfied grin Crayne closes his spellbook and rolls up the scroll, replacing all the books in his backpack and snuffing out the candle. It was a good night, indeed.

The following morning Crayne rises and immediately sets himself at work again, this time memorizing some of his spells. He tackles some of the older, simpler spells first, his Magic Missile spell, the Sleep spell, and the familiar Color Spray. He also memorizes Invisibility as well as Mirror Image, a spell he has not yet used. And finally, triumphantly, he turns the page to Clairaudience, and after about half an hour of study, he has committed it to memory.

He is eager to put the spell to use, so locking the door to his room, he sits himself in a chair and closes his eyes, concentrating intently on the new spell. He must be sure to pronounce each word perfectly, and to make each hand movement exactly as prescribed. This spells is more powerful than any he has cast before, and he has to admit, he is a little nervous.

Soon however, he can feel its effects. His closed eyes reveal only blackness, but vision was not the spell's feature. Sound instead was the focus, and Crayne can hear something. It is slow at first, far in the distance. But then the sound grows louder as Crayne concentrates on the room: the library deep beneath Castle Raimead, the same one in which he and Karelth had questioned Emerson.

"...a closed door, or perhaps locked treasure chest. It is, indeed quite useful as you can well imagine." The voice lets out a sinister laugh, and Crayne smiles as he sits still in his chair, for he recognizes the voice as that of Paros.

Next, he hears Emerson's voice. "What is the spell called, oh wise one?"

"Wizards call it 'Knock.' But for you it will undoubtedly be quite complicated, so I would recommend devoting an additional four hours a day to the study of this manuscript."

"Four hours?"

"Do you dare to question me? I would question your devotion to his craft...to his art!"

"My humble apologies, great master," Emerson pleads.

"Now," Paros says, his voice indicating a change in topic. Then there is a new sound. Once again, the unmistakable sound of coins as they rattle against one another. Crayne isn't sure, but he thinks he is hearing a sack of coins placed on the library's table. "You have done well collecting last night's delivery from Jordice. And in reward for your good service I will allow you the great honor of studying in my laboratory. But first, I must deal with these two sacks."

"Where will you put them, master? What will you spend it all on?"

Paros laughs again, a mere chuckle. "Oh how ignorant you are, Emerson. I need not spend my earnings as soon as they are delivered. I am the Lord High Wizard of the Duke, soon to be the Lord High Wizard of the King. I get whatever I want at the expense of the royal family--a luxury you may only dream of, I'm sure... No, I save my earnings, for someday they may be necessary to insure my survival, to ensure the necessary loyalty in the time of chaos which will soon be upon us."

Crayne stuggles to pay close attention as a new sound is introduced. The sound of wood scraping against stone. What could that be?

"Now," Paros says, "let us be off to the laboratory. For I only have but a few minutes to enlighten your pitiful mind..."

With that, the voices fade as footsteps trail off into the distance.

Finally, the appointed time arrives. The night outside is very dark, with scattered clouds obscuring the starlight as they pass overhead. And it is chilly, for winter is definitely upon the Kingdom of Rinder. As they head toward the more seedy parts of the city, following Hannibal's lead, Canter shivers a bit.

"Reminds me of the Yeti Campaign," Cy says gruffly, marching as if in formation. "Now that was a winter."

Canter nods quickly, his chattering teeth getting the best of him. He jumps up and down, doing his best to keep warm. Or perhaps he was nervous? His last run-in with the Blood Clan, on the streets of this very city, was hardly a fond memory. It was the day he last saw Guilliam the Gale.

"Shh!" Hannibal turns to look at the others over his shoulder. His breath forms a small cloud in front of his face. "This way." He turns at the next street, no more than a dirt and dust path, really. Small streams of water and sewage frozen to ice on the ground beneath his feet.

Rounding the corner, he leads the group into the narrow alley between the two buildings, both three stories tall. There are a few crates in the alley: a stack of two (about ten feet high and five feet wide in total) on the right and one on the left (about five feet square). The alley appears to be a dead end, about twenty-five yards long. Hannibal stands in the center of the alley, just a few steps from the cross street. The others stand a few yards behind, clearly in the intersection.

First Hannibal whistles, but receives no response. Then he takes a few more steps into the alley, peering through the darkness, his eyes quickly scanning for anybody or any movement. Not a thorough exploration, but a cursory glance, which reveals nothing.

"Hannibal?" Emma whispers, "Is anybody there?"

Hannibal doesn't audibly answer, but slowly shrugs his shoulder and shakes his head. Very strange, he thinks to himself. A cold wind sends a shiver down the thief's spine. The Blood Clan was usually very good at keeping appointments.

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